Rough Cut
by moonlightbecomesyou
Summary: Based on CSI 3 Dimensions of Murder case with some tweaks. yeah, Original Character with Greg Sanders, very original, eh? :D And yes, OC is a girl...no slash here
1. Chapter 1

-1**Rough Cut**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own CSI, nor do I own a lot of other things mentioned in here. Angel Dean belongs to Angel Dean but I DO own Camille. Eh.**

_**Story Idea/Summary: Greg and Camille investigate a 419 in the desert. Based on case from "3 Dimensions of murder" game. It will probably remained unfinished though, so sad.**_

**Chapter One**

Wearing as lighted magnifying system that closely resembled a pair of inferred goggles, Gil Grissom carefully placed a red beetle into the collection frame. Gently he pushed a pin through its center, trying hard not to press more than necessary as not to destroy the bug in anyway. Once finished, he picked up the glass cover, locking it into its place.

Picking it up in his hands, he examined it closely. He was definitely satisfied with this specimen. It had been crawling over a rock in front of his home this morning. He had found it on his way to his vehicle knew immediately that he had to have it. Now to find its rightful place on the wall.

After a few minutes of examining his collection he found the perfect spot. Right under the desert rose tarantula and next the Red-spotted Purple butterfly that Angel had brought back for him from her trip back to Florida to be with her sister the year before. Hanging it up, he took a step back putting his hands on his hips, looking much like an art critique viewing a new painting. 

Perfect.

As he turned around, pulling out his chair from the desk, there was a knock at the door causing him to pause half way. He looked up and saw standing in the door way none other than Greg Sanders. His outfit consisted of a pair of khaki colored cargo pants, a black long turtle neck underneath a black blazer. At least it was a step up from what he used to wear; Grissom cringed just at the thought of it. Wildly colored Hawaiian and disco type shirts? What an eye sore.

Sitting back in his chair, he merely looked at Greg expectantly knowing he was there to talk to him. A grin came upon his face as the young CSI entered the room.

"What up, G?"  
Just the sound of that made Gil laugh, it sounded so ridiculous. But that was just Greg, and it was good hearing him talk like his old self once again. He gestured for him to come in, pulling out a piece of paper from the notebook on his desk.

"Got something for me?" Greg asked, taking the piece of paper from him.

Grissom nodded. "419, in the middle of no where."

"In the middle of nowhere?" Greg started, looking down at the paper in his hand. "Are you trying to get rid of me Grissom?" He wasn't kidding; it really was in the middle of no where. It was barely in their jurisdiction.

"Since it's a remote area you'll be taking the Mobile Analysis Unit."

"Okay…" That part was cool, this would be the first time he was able to use it on a case. And he was aching to try it. "What's the catch?" He asked, there had to be a catch, why else would he be entrusting him with that. Grissom never trusted him with expensive equipment where he could not be supervised. Use that said equipment one or two times for personal things and you're branded for life.

Grissom shrugged and sat back in his chair, folding his hands in front of his chest. He shook his head. "No catch. More like I'm trusting you with responsibilities." He studied him for a moment, seeing the shocked look on Greg's face he smiled and continued.

"You'll be taking the new girl with you."

Greg's eyes widened even more than they had with the previous shock. "Ne-new girl?" He stammered, "You mean Camille Dean?" He finally chocked out.

An amused smirk crept across Grissom's face. "No, I meant Warrick Brown." He was proud of his joke; he thought it was rather clever. "Yes, I mean Camille."

"Okay, good. Because for one Warrick's not new, and he's not a girl. Believe me; we tested his DNA to make sure of it." Greg replied with a shrug, typical Sanders remark.

As the time went on, the trail was growing colder and Grissom knew that they really didn't have much more time to waste. "It'll hopefully be her second to last efficiency, so I want to you to observe her and make sure everything is done thorough. She has done field work before, but Las Vegas is a lot different than Miami."

All Greg could really do was nod in agreement; as he listened to everything he was being told. He finally was able to speak, "Will do." He grinned. "Thanks G!"

Grissom shook his head watching the younger man run out of the room excitedly. He chuckled, turning his chair around to look back at his new masterpiece on the wall.


	2. Chapter 2

-1**Chapter Two**

As the black Denali made its way down the Nevada highway, Greg Sanders clutched his fists around the steering wheel. He had been trying to keep his eyes on the road but his gaze kept drifting over to his partner in the passenger seat next to him. It still seemed like he was dreaming, was he actually on a case with her? This had been something he had asked himself since he first heard Grissom say it.

There was a big grin plastered on his face as he drove, his mind was obviously not where it should be. Camille Dean looked over at him out of the corner of her eyes. What was he so happy about she wondered? Of course she was thrilled to be working with him too, but she didn't think there was anyway that could be why he had that ridiculously stupid but equally adorable look on his face.

"You okay?" She asked the strap of her seatbelt was in her hand; conveniently she kept her eyes on it as if examining it, trying to throw him off from seeing the similar looks on her face towards him.

Greg cleared his throat, glancing towards the road for only half a second. "Yeah…why?" he asked grinning sheepishly.

"Well because you nearly plowed into that semi truck!" She shouted pointing out the windshield.

His eyes widened as he swerved back into the right lane. How could he have been that distracted? He cringed as he saw the semi disappear from his rearview mirror. "Sorry." he said in a voice that was barely audible.

Camille giggled and rolled her eyes. Putting her feet up on the dash board she stretched her arms above her head, yawning. At first Greg shot her a warning look, not wanting the dashboard being scuffed up, but quickly that look vanished and was placed with a doe eyed look as he looked over and then he hurried and looked back at the road. They were on their way to investigate a dead body; they didn't need to add to the numbers.

The silence continued for a few more minutes, a long with the nervous looks from Greg, and the silly sheepish grins on his face. If she only knew how nervous being in the same car with her was making him; the butterflies that seemed be having their own version of a mosh pit in his stomach. Than maybe she would understand. But of course…she didn't have any idea, and he wasn't going to just come right out and tell her.

Letting out a loud huff, Camille turned in her seat, letting her feet drop to the floor. The crime scene was about another hour or two away and there was no way she was going to sit here in this uncomfortable silence, with him looking at her with that…that incredibly deliciously, wonderful grin on his face. Oh no, she could feel the butterflies fluttering in her own stomach raise their activity level as well. But they were professionals and that was exactly how they had to act, so they had to get past this.

"Sanders?"

Greg glanced over at her with his eyes widened; a small snicker escaped his throat. She called me Sanders he thought but then frowned to himself. That's your name, you idiot. He swallowed hard, trying to push all the nervousness aside. "Yeah?" He asked.

How was she going to say what she needed to say? The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Taking a deep breath, she decided just to dive right in and say the first thing that came to her mind. "Do you have something against me?" She asked.

He gasped, "Something against you?" She couldn't be further from the truth. "Where do you get that idea?"

Camille shrugged, and laid her arm on the rest on the car door. "Well…okay maybe that was the wrong way to put it." She sighed again, so desperately wishing that she could say what she wanted and not make herself sound like a complete idiot.

Raising an eyebrow, Greg just gaped at her for a moment. Had he been that good at covering that she did not notice, or was she just oblivious. Either way, despite how much he did not want to be the one to admit first it looked now like he would have to be. Of course, he would say as little as he could hopefully to lower the amount of rejection he could receive if he did not.

"I have nothing against you, Camille." He started, trying his best to remain calm and cool, and of course to remain looking "cool" as well. "I've just wanted to work a case with you for a long time, and now here we are." That was good, if he did think so himself. It not too much, but the truth, even if it was just a small amount of said truth, there was much more, but that was just perfect.

"Oh." Camille felt relief rush over her. "I've really wanted to work with you too…outside the lab." She smiled at him, a small girly giggle escaping her open lips.

"Really?" Greg asked her, the sheepish grin was now more along the lines of a boyish one. A grin of a boy who was just told he could have anything he wanted in the candy store.

"Yeah, really." she replied biting her bottom lip, rubbing her neck as she stared over at him.

He chuckled and nodded, "Awesome." Now he was able to keep his eyes on the road, knowing that she was happy to be there. Hopefully this case would keep them together for a long time.

Camille stared out the window, giggling once more. She looked out over the side of the highway. There was desert everywhere you looked. It seemed like the middle of no where but she knew that this was more civilized than where they were going.

The sun shined off the red sand on the sides of the road, the color reminded her of a blood pool or at least like the Martian surface, not like the sandy white beaches of the Florida coast line. The only bodies of water here were either man made or mind made…mere mirages.

Greg must have been able to read her mind. "Missing the ocean?" He asked.

The question snapped her out of her gaze. "Hmmm? Oh, no. But I am thinking about it."

"A bunch of a hot babes running around nearly naked…where do I sign up?" the grin on his face quickly vanished as he received an extremely dark glare from the blonde sitting next to him. "Sorry." he really did feel ashamed.

Camille rolled her eyes and stared back out at the sand once more. The tension was now coming back, and it was because of the sexist comment that her superior had just made. The comment had hurt her, cut her to the bone, but she didn't know why. He was just her co-worker and nothing more. The hurt was engraved on her face.

She wasn't the only one confused by her behavior, he was as well. He had just been joking, he wasn't exactly serious. That was just the way he was. Why was she acting like a jealous girlfriend? He sighed and looked back at the road. He was beginning to realize that even though he knew her, he really didn't know anything about her.

"It all looks like innocent fun and games…" she started, still staring out the window. "Just like in Vegas…but that's just a façade." She turned to face him, and sighed. "Have you ever seen the movie Devil's Advocate?" She asked.

"Uh huh, yeah I have." He wondered where she was going with this.

"The beautiful women were seducing Keanu Reeves, they seemed absolutely perfect…but underneath it all they were nothing but demons." She shrugged, "It's the same thing."

Greg just stared at her gaping for a moment. "Wow…that's pretty deep." He said, the thought confused him at first but than it left him disturbed. From the things he had experienced in the job, he realized she was right. It really did make perfect sense. He had seen the ugly underbelly of it all, he knew what it really was like.

Camille looked back over at him and grinned. "So do you really wanna know about Miami?" She asked him.

The grin on her face loosened him up. "Well, not exactly Miami but about you." he asked.

"And why do you want to know about me? And what makes you think I will tell you?" She giggled.

"Because…I really like you, you really like me…and we have another hour to kill?" He cringed at the choice of his words. "I mean…"

Camille laughed, slapping him playfully on the shoulder. "Well, death is our lives." She offered.

The feel of her hand against his arm, he stiffened a bit. He had not been expecting that, and the fact that she touched him…it felt so much different then it had in his daydreams. He was finally able to smile at her.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything you want to offer." Greg replied, he wanted really to know everything, but he did not want to put any uncomfortable pressure on her. He would wait as long as it took. Even though he had not been the ladies man that he had acted, when it came to women he was not normally willing to wait as a rule. But with her…maybe it was the fact that he was so close to her sister but he was willing to wait.

She smiled shyly at him. "I uh…"  
"You don't have to tell me right now…maybe you're ready?" Greg smiled back at her. "We can just "hang out" and let it come naturally." he suggested, playfully.

Camille nodded, "mmhmmm. Sure, sounds perfect." She smiled, laying her head against the headrest. Glancing out the window, spying the mileage sign. 33 more miles. 


End file.
